He showered in cold water, dried off quickly, but by the time he returned to his room he felt sweaty once more. Cleaning up in the field is almost a waste of my time. By the time I have walked back to my quarters in this heat, the shower does me little good, he thought as he slipped a pair of Jeans on, and picked up a blue tee. Both were a little large, because he lost weight each year. He'd been 210 just before the fall, but now was 160, and he actually felt much better.
There was a knock on his door frame, because like most partisans, he lived in a tent. He moved to the door, holding the blue tee in his hand and towel around his waist, cracked it open a little and looked outside. There stood Joy and Hanish.
“I just showered so give me a couple of minutes to finish getting dressed,” he said and then let the door close.
Less than five minutes later he opened the door and invited both of them inside. Joy sat in an old lawn chair John had and Hanish sat on the corner of his bed.
“We wanted to see if you're okay after talking to Headquarters.” Joy said
“Actually, you want to nose in and find out what our new orders are, right?” John asked and then laughed. Once he sobered he said, “I have no idea what they are because they were sent in code and when I left, Green was translating it into English. He'll bring it to me once he has the job finished.”
“We're hoping it's something big, which will mean more Russian casualties, and that may be what will make the Russians leave America.”
“I'm as much in the dark as you are right —”
“Colonel, are you in your quarters, sir?' Green asked just before he knocked.
“Come on in, Corporal. What do you have for me?”
“The orders you were expecting, sir.”
“Anything unusual?”
“The orders are classified secret, sir. Do you want to discuss that with these other in the room?”
“Yes, they all have Top Secret clearances and they'll be with me where ever we are sent, so it's okay to speak in front of them. Again, are our orders unusual, because they rarely send orders in code?”
“Kind of. Tomorrow night you are to hit a dam the Russians are using for power. The minute the lights go out, Partisans will hit their base. The timing of our attack must be perfect to allow us to hit and maybe overrun the base. The base is Fort Leonard Wood. Most details are in the orders.”
“What, another base? Oh, and a big one this time.” Woo asked.
“I think they want to cause a lot of casualties so more riots will occur.” Joy said and then met the eyes of John.
“Joy, that's some sound logic,” John said, “if you ask me. Attacking any base will cause Russians to die or be injured.”
“I guess Headquarters has decided to make the Russians pay for having bases on American soil and there are sure to be thousands of deaths on both sides.” Woo said and then added, “The Russian deaths alone will bring a civilian outcry. They will demonstrate for sure, once the media releases the attacks.”
The next night, they all prepared for the attack on the dam. John made sure even Major Woo had a part in the attack, and the Colonel felt that all of his men and women needed combat experience, because of the lives they lived. They were all always susceptible to attacks and could come under attack anytime because they had in the past. Woo had been in one train attack, but it had been a walk in the sun compared to what the attack on the dam might be. Intelligence, provided by Woo, showed 40 mm Anti-aircraft guns were located in three spots on or near the dam. A hundred men and women were assigned to the defenses of the dam, but they were only 40% manned due to the recent attacks on various Russian bases. The Russians were removing folks from other places to strengthen up their air bases.
John's plan was to have his troops move in close to the defensive positions and then when a truck crashed through the entry gate, while the Russians were still shocked, hit the 40 mm guns and any machine-gun nests. Once security was taken out, they'd rig the dam with explosives and then take the dam out of action. That would render Fort Leonard Wood without any power for days, if not for months.
“Now, we will take a company sized group with us and the bulk will be led by me, with Joy leading the group to take the dam out. Woo, you will take another group and defend everyone against any surprise visitors. I expect your group to not be busy. If that happens, release all but ten men to her. The ten will watch the roads until the mission is complete.”
“Any questions?” John asked.
“How many people will each of us have?”
“I will have 40 to overpower the defenses, Woo will have 20 people and you will have 40 to blow the dam. You have two explosives experts assigned to you, Joy, so use them. I want that dam gone when we leave, or cracked seriously.”
“Do the troops know which group they belong to or do we have to just pick people as they off load the trucks?”
“Every person going knows where they are assigned. They know us as me being team 1, Woo, you are team two, and Joy you are team three.”
“Now, let's get the trucks loaded, we have a dam to attack.”
Chapter 14
“Sir, wouldn't lying about a medal be perjury? I mean I cannot force them to sign anything, because we are asking them to lie. What do I say if they refuse? I mean they have to swear they are telling the truth on the submission form.” Lieutenant Colonel Shura asked.
“If they refuse, shoot them. By the way, Colonel, that is not a suggestion but an order. If you shoot one, the rest will sign quickly enough. Go find your men at the Officers and NCO clubs.”
“Yes sir.” and he hung up the phone.
Shura was an officer with integrity, but there was nothing she could do except lie on an official form, and it bothered her greatly. She had known Russian commanders who shot those they felt needed removing and knowing Colonel Yurievich, she knew he would shoot her if she disagreed with him over the medal.
Damn me, what a mess! she thought as she had her driver take her to the officers club. She'd check there first and only get a Senior or Master Sergeant to recommend the Colonel be awarded the medal. Officer ranks would carry more weight but an enlisted man was needed to show all felt him deserving of the medals.
She entered, moved to an empty table to see if anyone she knew was at the bar or at another table. She felt very dishonest on what she was about to do. She quickly spotted Colonel Matvey Gennadieyvich, who was in charge of the security of the base. She approached him and said, “Colonel Yurievich has sent me to tell you he has selected you for a medal and wants you to do the same for him, except I just need a statement from you about how his leadership saved the base.”
“He knows well how the old game is played, right?” The Colonel sounded about half drunk and he was known by others to be an alcoholic. Many Russians drank too much but this man before her was known to drink his breakfast, yet he was a man of honor and courage under fire.
“He knows, just as you do. You take care of him and he will take care of you.”
“I heard he was going to be promoted to General and he will make a good one. Sure I will write something tonight and have it to you at stand-up in the morning. Is that early enough? Let him know there is no need to submit me, because I am retiring after this tour is completed, I have already submitted the paperwork.”
“Thank you, Colonel. Let me buy you another drink.”
“No, I have had three doubles and I am fine. I need to get home and have supper. I have a nice suite and a very pretty Russian woman, a regular Sergeant, that cares for all of my needs. No, I have had enough, but thank you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Tell Ludomir that I will play his game and I hope he makes a room full of stars.” the Colonel said, stood and left the Lieutenant Colonel at the bar.
The next three were a bit harder, but by promising the Colonel's endorsement on their performance reports and medals, they all agreed to have something for her by Stand Up. Then she was off to the NCO club, but it was empty,
except for one old Master Sergeant. Shura approached him.
“Good evening Sergeant, mind if I join you? I hate to drink alone.”
“Not at all, Ma'am. Grab a stool and I will buy you a drink.”
“Bartender, bring me a beer and with little foam.” the Lieutenant Colonel ordered.
“Well, Colonel, what brings you to our humble NCO Open Mess?”
“I am looking for a witness for a heroic act that never happened.”
The Sergeant laughed and asked, “Which Colonel wants another medal? I suspect it is Colonel Yurievich, because he just took over as the commander of the base and wing. Did he single-handedly counter attack and take our base back all on his own?”
“How did you guess?”
“Ma'am, no disrespect intended, but I have been in this man’s army for 35 years, which is probably longer than you have been alive, and I have seen all types come and go. Wing or Base Commanders all try to leave their assignments with a medal and promotion if they can. What does Ludomir want, the Hero of the Russian Federation medal with an oak leaf cluster?”
“No cluster, but you seem to know all of this.”
“He is just a different name, but the lies continue. I will handle this and have it to you by morning. I also know he does not need it, because he is leaving within a month and returning to Moscow where he will be promoted to Brigadier General. What they do with him after that is anyone's guess.”
Gulping her beer down, the Lieutenant Colonel, said, “Thank you, Sergeant. I need to get to my quarters and grab a bite to eat and then get a shower. I appreciate your help and understanding. It is difficult for a person with integrity to ask people to lie about a medal.”
“Those that truly earn those medals are less important as more and more men lie to get the medal they want. The medal our Colonel wants is equal to the Americans Medal of Honor and I almost turned you down, but then I realized, it is possible you would catch hell if the men in the unit did not offer to endorse his submission. I have seen you around a lot and you are a good officer. Enjoy your evening, Ma'am. I will track you down with my draft early in the morning.”
She shook the Sergeant’s hand and then left.
Two weeks after the Colonel's medal submissions arrived in Moscow, he was contacted in his office.
He picked up the phone, since his secretary was gone for the day and said, “Colonel Yurievich here. How may I help you?”
“Ludomir, this is General Urvan Olegovich and I have some good news for you. It seems all three of your medals were approved and we want you here next week to present them to you and to promote you to the rank of Brigadier General, in the Federation army.”
“G . . . General, sir?”
“You need to be here on Thursday and we will present the medals and promote you at a special awards ceremony, along with a five division salute to you and to honor your career. The salute will take place in the Red Square with aircraft overhead. Once they pass in review, your new rank will be presented. We have already made excellent accommodations for you and your lovely wife in the top Hotel here. Your orders will be sent by FAX and you are to leave tomorrow so you are here in plenty of time. Tonight at 1800, a Colonel Stena will arrive at your base and is to be your replacement. I am most proud to say we have a full time spot for you here in Moscow. Congratulations, my friend, and welcome to the command level of the army, the Generals.”
“Why thank you, sir. I know my wife will be thrilled at the promotion and the medals. I wish to thank all of you for making this happen.”
“You made it happen, General, and on the day you gallantly led your troops personally onto your overrun base. You are a true hero, sir. Well, I must leave and you have to meet Colonel Stena at your airport in about 30 minutes. Good evening to you, General, and goodbye.”
When he hung up the phone, Ludomir opened his desk drawer, pulled out a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a double. Knocking it back, he poured another. He was so excited about the medal and promotion that he felt like screaming. Since he was to be promoted in a week, he'd have his podium in the Stand Up room changed so the name would read, Brigadier General-Select Ludomir Yurievich. Just the sound gave him a big thrill.
He called his driver, and had him take him to the airport to pickup his replacement. When he arrived, the flight was late and it would be another hour before the man arrived. He went to the designated smoking area and pulled out a cigar. He just put in in his mouth when a bullet ricocheted off the concrete patio blocks on the ground and zinged off into space. He immediately ran inside and yelled, “Security! There is a sniper out back covering the smoking area.”
“Stay inside, sir, as we try to find him. We have never had this happen here before.”
“Get the bastard, because he almost blew my head off.” He pulled a flask from his coat pocket and removed the lid. After sniffing the drink, he took a healthy slug for his nerves. The shot just missed him and he had a lot to live for now.
He listened to the search, but they found nothing.
“Sir,” A pretty young Sergeant working the counter said, “your guest is landing right now and he will be in the terminal within ten minutes. Do you want us to page him, or do you know what he looks like?”
“No, I have never seen the man before, so paging him is a good idea.”
“I will do that, sir.”
Many long minutes later folks began to flood into the terminal and the Sgt. said, “Would Colonel Nady Stena, please report to the information counter. I repeat, would Colonel Nady Stena, please report to the information counter. You have a guest waiting for you.”
Soon a young looking Full Colonel neared and said, “I am Colonel Stena.” Then seeing Yurievich standing at the counter he asked, “Are you General-Select Yurievich, sir?”
“Yes, I am. I will have my Sergeant fetch your bags and take them to your quarters. We can go to my office and discuss your new assignment.”
“Sounds good, sir. We will not have much time together. All of Russia is talking about you and how brave and smart you are. I am honored to take your position, sir.”
“Thank you Colonel, there are many opportunities here if a man is brave and willing to work hard.”
The evening was spent over a bottle of vodka as the old commander gave the soon to be new one a rundown of what it took to do the job. He also covered his best commanders, those that needed pushing to do their jobs, and those that he felt needed shot. The new man asked few questions and he was motivated to do the job, because like most Colonels, he dreamed of making General. This position would give him the chance, just as it had Yurievich.
Finally, Stena asked, “I heard the base was overrun not long ago and due to your heroic effort you were successful in taking it back, but how much of a normal day to day problems are the partisans?”
“The first thing you need to keep in mind, at all times, is you are here to fight and not just to have a successful base operation. Moscow wants bodies, resistance bodies, and the more you have, the more your star shines in their eyes. I was able to claim well over 500 bodies just by taking the base back. Remember, 99% of the base population are now combat veterans and overall they are super troops. Listen to your more experienced officers and senior NCOs. Some of these old Sergeants were in the army before you and I were born.”
Suddenly the base siren began to blare. Picking up his phone, Yurievich called base operations and asked, “What do you have? I hear the base is under attack.”
A Sergeant said, “Sir, we have a sniper in the woods on the west side of the base and he has already shot a Colonel, a Master Sergeant attempting to save the Colonel, and two medics. The warning will remain on until a Mig drops napalm on that side of the base. The aircraft is lining up now.”
“Continue the good work.” He replied, then hung up. Turning to Stena he said, “Come outside with me and see how we deal with snipers that anger us.”
They walked outside and while it was dark and the Mig could not be seen, the
afterburners were clearly seen as he zoomed toward the trees. Nothing was seen as he passed over the trees, then, suddenly, a huge fireball lit the night as it exploded, showering the trees with sticky burning oil.
“Like using a nuclear bomb on a spider, is it not?” Stena asked.
“No, I do not think it is overkill, because a good sniper can kill hundreds of men, so we deal with them hard. This one seriously wounded a Full Colonel, Master Sergeant, and two medics. But now, I am fairly sure his days of shooting anyone are over.”
“I guess if it works, keep doing it. I need to set up an appointment with your intelligence section to discuss our current threat level and to assess our efforts at combating the Partisans.”
“You can spend all the time you wish with them after Stand-Up in the morning. It starts at 0700 hours and all my commanders will be there.”
“Good, very good.”
Olga lay beside Petr in their bed and was crying silently. She'd discovered she now loved the Sergeant and she was worried he'd be killed before they ever got back to Russia. He was always taking risks and often volunteered for missions she felt were too dangerous. So far, he'd come through all without a scratch, but she knew one day he'd be seriously injured, maimed for life, or killed. She also knew she could not bring it up, because he would be insulted. He was proud of his bravery and seemed to be trying to prove he was the bravest of them all.
It was 0500, according to the old clock beside the bed, so she got up, put a tea kettle on to boil and changed. Her uniform of the day was camouflage tops and bottom, with a matching cloth cap. She laid her other gear out and placed a 9 mm pistol Petr had given her, under her loose camo blouse. She placed it where he'd instructed her, in the small of her back, next to her spine. She slipped the two extra magazines in her cargo pockets on the left side. She poured a cup of coffee, turned the Russian station on the TV and watched the world news.
The Fall of America | Book 9 | Operation Instant Fury Page 15
